


Disturb The Comfortable (Version 2)

by insanechayne



Series: Torrey Marie White [2]
Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-09 10:48:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insanechayne/pseuds/insanechayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this version my character, Torrey Marie White, is a demon-vampire hybrid, which is how she was originally created to be.<br/>Rick/OC relationship in this one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ashes of the Innoent

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me if this sounds a bit cheesy right now. Because Torrey is a demon-vampire hybrid, she can do anything she wants, in terms of supernatural powers.  
> It'll get better, I promise.

The walker’s body was solid one second, and in the next it was nothing but ash slowly floating to the ground. The poor creature didn’t even know what hit him, so to speak. 

Torrey Marie White sighed, shaking her head as she flexed her fingers. One touch, that was all it took to take a geek down cleanly and quietly. No risk of becoming infected through blood and skin contact when all of that was just dust. They’d have had to burn the bodies anyway; this way was just easier.   
Monica White snapped her knife back onto her belt and shook some ash from her black pigtails. “That was fast.”

“It’s amazing what being able to heat your skin can do in this world. I finally have a practical use for my boiling blood.” Torrey smirked ruefully as she flicked Monica’s nose. The other girl scrunched up her face for a moment, making Torrey laugh. 

Torrey wasn’t a human, like her friend Monica was. Torrey was a demon-vampire hybrid, one of the rarest of her kind. Before the world went to Hell she’d had to rein in her powers, and could only show them to a certain few people, but now that there was no one left to act normal for she could be herself. 

Monica stared out at the piles of dust that covered the road. Twenty walkers had ganged up on them, and Torrey had taken them all out with a simple touch to each one’s exposed skin. It would have been impressive if Monica hadn’t known the demon for so many years. “You gonna clean up your mess, or what?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Torrey rolled her eyes at Monica’s grin, and waved her hands. A gust of wind blew past Monica’s shoulder, tussling her hair, and swept the ash to the side of the road. “There, your highness, the road is clear.” Torrey bowed at the waist, extending one arm out as if to show her friend the way. 

Monica huffed and shoved Torrey’s shoulder, sending her flat on her ass on the pavement, and strolled by. “Come on, we’ve got to find a place to camp for the night. It’ll be dark in a few hours.”

Torrey got to her feet, brushing herself off as she followed Monica. “Shouldn’t be too hard, with my built in GPS.” Torrey tapped her forehead, causing Monica to roll her eyes. Torrey closed her eyes as they made their way down the deserted highway, searching for any abandoned buildings nearby. 

“You got anything yet?” Monica raised an eyebrow at her friend. 

“Yeah, looks like a farm. I think it’s only about a mile or two from here. We can easily make it there before nightfall.” Torrey’s bright green/hazel eyes opened, a spark of excitement flashing in them. The farm was surrounded by flat grasslands, with the forest circling it beyond that. If it was uninhabited the two girls could probably stay there for quite a while, provided there were enough supplies to keep them alive. 

“Ugh, more walking.” Monica’s shoulders slumped forward, a frown pulling her mouth down at the corners. Though Monica was about the size of a toothpick exercise was the bane of her existence. 

“Do you need me to carry you, princess?” Torrey reached out her arms to the twig-like girl beside her.

“Shut up.” Monica slapped Torrey’s arms away, ignoring the redhead’s giggles. 

“Cheer up, we can probably use that ol’ farmhouse for a while, if no one else is there. I bet there’re some nice, soft beds we can use, too.” Torrey wrapped an arm around Monica’s shoulder, giving her a gentle, one-armed embrace. 

Monica’s face lifted a little bit at the prospect of a bed to sleep in, after so many days of sleeping in grass, or abandoned tents. Perhaps walking a little bit more wouldn’t be so bad after all.


	2. The Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm this still seems kind of cheesy, now that I'm thinking about it. But I shant give up, because I've wanted to bring the true form of this character to life for so long.  
> So suck it.   
> And enjoy.

Torrey and Monica arrived at the farmhouse Torrey had seen around dusk, the sky mostly indigo with small splotches of pink in random areas. As the two made their way to the gate in front of the property, Torrey could make out a lone figure on the porch, sitting in what appeared to be a rocking chair. Lights were on in the front windows, and a car sat parked in the dirt off to one side of the house.

“Looks like it hasn’t been abandoned after all.” Torrey breathed to Monica. 

Monica glanced over at the redhead, concern in her eyes, but Torrey held a hand up to calm her. 

“Whoever that person on the porch is they don’t seem hostile. Feels like there’re more inside, too. One of them’s fading pretty fast, actually.” Torrey bit her lip, the sense of death rolling into her like a tidal wave. This was one of her powers that she sometimes wished she didn’t have, this ability to feel what other people felt, especially when someone was about to slip away from the world. The grief was overpowering, and the worst part was that she was barraded by it on all sides, not just from the person close to the abyss. She could occasionally turn off this other sense, if she was prepared ahead of time, but there was something different this time. For some reason the presence of the reaper was stronger than normal, and the despair could practically be cut with a knife as if it were a solid object.   
Sorrow of this magnitude could mean only one thing: a child was about to die. 

Torrey gripped Monica’s arm, pulling her abruptly to a stop. “There’s a child in there, and if some miracle doesn’t happen in the next hour or two that kid’s going to die.” Torrey closed her eyes as another wave of grief passed over her, making her entire body shake. Yes, she really hated this other sense right now. “We have to get in there, no matter what. I have to help.”

“What if they don’t want your help? What if whoever is in there thinks it’s better for the kid to die this way than be stuck in this world?” Monica’s voice was solemn, her brown eyes staring into Torrey’s green ones. 

The realization hit Torrey almost as hard as the sorrow from those inside had. It made sense that a parent wouldn’t want their child to suffer this life of running, foraging, and fighting to survive. She wouldn’t have wanted that struggle for her children, if she’d had them.

“Well, we still need a place to stay tonight, regardless. At the very least I can make an offer, right?” Torrey dropped Monica’s arm, and looked at the ground, the turmoil raging inside her making it somewhat difficult to concentrate. She took a moment to collect herself, and try and turn off that other sense that was very nearly dropping her to her knees. She took a few deep breaths, and finally managed to get the grief toned down from a tidal wave to a heavy downpour of rain; it wasn’t as good as it could have been, but it was certainly better than before. She nodded to Monica, and the two began walking once more. 

The two girls slipped inside the gate, locking it back up behind them, since that seemed like the polite thing to do, and made their way to the front door. The figure on the porch turned out to be a young woman, perhaps twenty-six at most, with neck length, chestnut colored hair, and bright green eyes. She had her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around her shins, her dazzling eyes somewhat vacant as she stared out into the night.

“Um, excuse me, miss?” Torrey walked up slowly, not wanting to startle the girl.

The girl’s green eyes met Torrey’s own. “Are you from Rick’s group?” She asked, her eyes swimming slightly back into focus. 

“No, we’re not. I don’t know who Rick is, actually. We’re kind of nomadic, at the moment. We’ve been traveling for a while, and I had a… vision of your farmhouse. I didn’t realize there were others here until we got closer, but I understand a child is terribly injured. We were wondering if perhaps we could spend the night here? It’s safer than wandering around the woods for who knows how much longer trying to find some other place, and I think I could be of help to the kid dying inside.” Torrey bit her bottom lip, hoping she hadn’t freaked the girl out too much. Those who didn’t know what Torrey was, or all the things she was capable of, usually responded to her explanations and actions in a less than friendly manner. 

The girl’s eyes widened, confusion streaking across her face. “You psychic or somethin’? 

“Not really. It’s more complicated than that. I’d be happy to explain at another time, but right now…” Torrey nodded her head toward the house. 

The girl took a few minutes to drink in everything the ginger had said, but then she nodded. “Alright, I guess you could probably stay a night or two. You’re right ‘bout it bein’ safer than the dark. Not sure how you knew about Carl, but yeah he’s hurt pretty bad, and if you can help then I’m sure Rick and Lori would be willing to hear you out. Come on in.” She gracefully got up from the rocking chair, brushing past Torrey in a not-unkind way so that she could hold the door open for the two girls.

“Thank you. This is very kind of you. What’s your name, by the way?” Torrey stopped just as she was about to pass through the doorway, Monica close beside her.   
“Maggie. Maggie Greene. Yours?” 

“I’m Torrey Marie White, and this is Monica White.”

“Y’all related? You two don’t really look anything alike.” Maggie gave both girls a once over, raising one eyebrow. 

It was true that the two looked nothing alike; they were practically opposite. Torrey was tall, about 5’9”, with smooth, cream colored skin. She had bright red hair that shone like a mixture between fire and brand new copper, and emerald green eyes with a ring of golden hazel around her pupils. Her cheekbones were high, her neck slender, her nose a perfect slope that rounded into a button, and her jawline was both strong and feminine. She was beautiful, and she looked like the biggest sweetheart on the face of the earth that could take your eye out in two seconds flat. 

Monica on the other hand, being of Indian descent, was a rich tan color, like slightly overcooked caramel. Her jet black hair was pulled into two distinct pigtails, and her chocolate brown eyes looked bored, yet contemplative. Her cheekbones weren’t as high as Torrey’s, but they brought a certain sharp definition to her face that made her look slightly older than she really was. She was about 5’8”, and she looked to be about the size of a metal railing on a staircase. Her nose also sloped down into a button, but her jawline was more girlish, and less pronounced than Torrey’s. She looked almost like a teenager, but there was something in her eyes that screamed ‘deadly.’

Torrey smirked, sharing a glance with her friend. “No, we’re not related by blood. But Monica is my sister, in a spiritual sense. She’s been my best friend for more years than I can count, and she adopted my last name long ago for reasons I can no longer recall.” Monica grinned and playfully punched her friend’s arm, both of them sharing a soft laugh, and anyone looking could tell the bond between them was unbreakable. 

Maggie couldn’t help but smile at the scene before her, and ushered the two inside. “Let me take you to my father, Hershel. He’s in the next room with Carl, Rick, and Lori right now, trying to decide what to do with the poor boy.” She led the friends down a short hallway and into what appeared to be a small bedroom.   
As soon as they entered the smell of too many pints of blood hit Torrey’s nostrils. The vampire part of her craved to be fed, but she pushed that side deep down once more; she could quench that thirst tomorrow, or the day after, with a deer in the woods or some other woodland creature, but right now she had a proposal to make. 

“Dad?” Maggie spoke softly, but everyone still looked up at her anyway. She looked at an older gentleman with white hair and soft wrinkles lining his face. He had bright blue eyes that sparkled with tenderness when he turned to his daughter. “This is Torrey, and Monica. They wandered in here and wondered if they could stay the night.”

Hershel’s eyes locked on Torrey’s first, then Monica’s, gauging whether or not they were a threat. Soon he nodded once. “I suppose they can use one of the extra bedrooms we’ve got upstairs. I doubt they’d cause any harm.” He turned away from them then, back to the small boy lying unconscious on the bed. 

Torrey stepped forward, past Maggie, only a few inches from where Hershel stood. “Excuse me, sir? I have… an offer I’d like to make. It’s about this injured boy here.” In order for this to work, Torrey would have to reveal what she was, even if only the basics of it, and who knew what kind of reaction that would solicit. All eyes shifted toward her, surprise and suspicion clear in every pair.

Torrey swallowed roughly, her usual confidence seeming to fade under the weight of their stares. “Look, I’ll be up-front with all of you. I know this is going to sound crazy, and I suppose you probably won’t believe me, but I’m not human. I’m a demon-vampire hybrid, and I have… powers. Basically I can do anything I could think of, with very few limitations. But anyway, the point here is, I can heal this child. I can sense that he’s close to death, and with everyone’s blessing, I’d like to pull him away from the reaper’s bag of souls.” Even to herself she sounded crazy, and she’d bet anything that they didn’t believe a word of what she said. 

For a while no one spoke, they just stared at her. Finally, the other man in the room spoke. “You say you can heal my boy? How?” The man looked about ready to pass out. Sweat beaded his forehead and cheeks, and his blue eyes were bloodshot, full of fear and anxiety. There was a large piece of gauze bandaged to the crook of his left arm, and Torrey guessed that he had been giving his blood for the child.

“It’s kind of complicated.” Torrey bit her lip once more, meeting his eyes with some difficulty. 

“I don’t care if it’s complicated. Tell me how.” His gruff voice was harsh, but Torrey chalked that up to stress. 

“Well, what kind of procedure needs to be performed? That will give me an idea of what I’ll be able to do.” Torrey looked at Hershel now; the stethoscope around his neck told her that he was the person to ask that question of.

“The boy was shot. The bullet didn’t go through cleanly, it broke into six fragments. Looks like he’s got some internal bleeding, too, so not only will I have to cut him open enough to pull the pieces out, but I’ll have to stitch up whatever blood vessel got nicked from the shot. I’ll have to put him under, to keep him from moving, but he won’t be able to breathe on his own with the anesthetic in his system.” Hershel’s voice grew solemn, his eyes slipping from Torrey’s.

The redhead considered this carefully, nodding as Hershel spoke. “Alright, I know what I can do. I can numb his body so that he won’t feel anything, and therefore won’t move. That way you won’t have to put him under, and he’ll still be able to breathe. I can also stop the his internal bleeding, if I can pinpoint a source from the outside, until you can patch up the vessel, as well as keep his blood flow under control while you’re performing the procedure.”

Hershel looked to the man on the chair, and the woman standing beside him. “Rick, Lori, this is your boy, so it’s your call. If she can really do all that then he’ll have a better chance of survival than if we use what Shane and Otis can bring back, if anything.”

Rick looked up at Lori, his expression pleading. Lori stared at him for a long moment, tears rolling down her cheeks, before she finally nodded. 

“May as well try it, right?” Lori placed a hand on Rick’s shoulder when he began to cry. He pressed his face to her stomach, his silent sobs soaking into her thin shirt. 

“Let’s get started, then. Rick, Lori, I’ll need you out of the room for a while. Patricia and Torrey can be the only ones here while I’m working.” Hershel began to roll up his sleeves as Maggie escorted Monica out the door. Monica locked eyes with Torrey, giving her a curt nod and smile as she exited the room. Torrey tried to smile back, but it didn’t reach her eyes. 

Lori helped Rick stay steady as he hobbled weakly from the room. They paused in front of the redheaded stranger who claimed to work miracles, and Lori took Torrey’s hand in her own. “Please, if you can really do those things you say you can, please save our son.” And then she was gone, getting Rick to settle on a chair down the hall. 

Torrey had no doubt in herself, or her abilities, but the tidal wave of grief was drowning her again now that she was around the people responsible for it. 

Another woman, presumably Patricia, wheeled in a metal operating table and placed it right next to the boy’s bedside. 

Hershel patted Torrey’s shoulder lightly. “Let’s get started.”


	3. If It Means A Lot To You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short because I wanted to get it over with. It was longer in my head, though, I have to admit.

Hershel, Patricia, and Torrey all lifted the boy from the bed onto the metal table gently, keeping the blanket underneath him to catch any spilled blood. 

Hershel splashed a scalpel with rubbing alcohol to sterilize it, then lifted his eyes to Torrey’s. “Whatever way you have to numb him, do it now.” 

Torrey leaned over the boy, placing her palms lightly over the gauze bandage still attached to his side. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she deadened the nerve endings in the boy’s side. The boy stayed asleep throughout the whole thing, as he no doubt would for the rest of the procedure, but just to be sure she touched his forehead lightly with one finger, placing a sleeping spell on him for the duration of the operation. “You can cut into his side now. He won’t feel a thing, and he won’t wake up until long after you finish.”

Hershel nodded and deftly slid the blade of the scalpel through the boy’s skin, the blood gushing out of the kid’s body like a waterfall. Torrey traced her finger over the edge of the scalpel’s cut, and the blood immediately stopped flowing, as if it had never started in the first place. Hershel had to remind himself to focus on the task at hand, the things happening in his house were so incredible. 

Torrey was already feeling somewhat winded; it had been quite a while since she’d used so much of her power at one time, and in several different ways at once, but she was determined to help this child. 

Hershel cut around the bullet hole, just enough to open the kid’s side up to get the remaining pieces out. It only took him a few minutes to get the fragments out of the child’s body and into a small, water-filled bowl that Patricia had placed beside him. 

“I have to cut a little deeper now to find the severed blood vessel and patch it up. Can you keep his blood flow under control for a little while longer?” Hershel looked almost worried as he took in the sweat forming on Torrey’s brow. 

Torrey simply nodded, feeling too out of breath to speak, and passed her palm over the entry wound Hershel had made; she didn’t care that blood was now all over her hand, as long as it stayed inside this kid’s body her thirst could remain sated. However, she did quickly a few droplets from her palm when the others weren’t looking; it gave her just enough energy to stay on her feet. 

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Hershel was stitching the boy’s side back together and taping a fresh gauze bandage over the wound. Hershel laid his tools aside, and smiled up at the redheaded stranger who had, in fact, performed a miracle. 

“I don’t know how you did all of that, but thank you for it, regardless.” Hershel squeezed the girl’s shoulder, his smile genuine and friendly. 

Torrey managed to give him a slight smile in return. “Always happy to help keep someone alive, especially a child.”

“Come on, hun, let’s go break the news to the parents.” Patricia grinned and wrapped an arm around Torrey’s waist to keep her steady as she hobbled to the door.   
As soon as Torrey had shuffled her way into the front room, Monica rushed to her side, her arm replacing Patricia’s around the redhead’s waist. “You look like hell, girl. Though, that’s probably pretty good, considering hell’s where you came from.” Monica smirked as Torrey rolled her eyes at the lame joke. 

Lori leapt off her chair, darting for Torrey. “Is he alright? Were you able to help him?” Her eyes flickered between Hershel and Torrey, awaiting answers.

Torrey nodded and took Lori’s hand in her own, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Your son’s fine. It was a quick and easy procedure. He should wake up sometime in the middle of the night, or tomorrow; I had to put a sleeping spell on him, just in case. When he starts saying he’s in pain, let me know; I can take care of that, too.” Torrey answered the brunette woman’s questions as fast as she could; she was going to fade any minute now, and she’d prefer to be in a bed before that happened, so that no one would have to carry her up the stairs; that would be rude, considering she was in someone else’s house.

Lori, her eyes watering, wrapped Torrey in a tight embrace. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Torrey’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but she patted Lori’s back all the same. “Don’t thank me. Hershel performed the operation. He had the harder job.” Torrey laughed lightly to herself, her head starting to feel way too fuzzy to be anything but bad news. 

Monica shook her friend’s shoulder, and hurriedly pulled her to the stairs. “Come on, girl, just gotta get up these steps, and then you can collapse. Don’t die on me now.” 

Torrey was stumbling now, tripping over the flat surface she was trying to walk on, and then she felt like she was floating. Before the blackness closed over her for good, she heard Monica huff “you piece of shit” from somewhere far away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay everything is hunky-dorey, but will it stay that way for long?  
> I don't know. I haven't thought all that far ahead yet.


	4. Begin Again

Hershel, Lori, Patricia, and even Rick, all rushed to where Torrey had passed out on the hardwood floor in front of the stairs. Monica was the only one who showed any emotion that differed from worry; Monica was pissed that her friend had gone slack before her ass got up those damn stairs, because now Monica would have to drag Torrey up there; even with help from others that task would be cumbersome. 

“Is she alright?” Lori asked, worry coloring her town as everyone circled Torrey’s unconscious form.

“She’s fine. Just gets pretty tired when she uses too much of her power at one time, ‘specially if she hasn’t been using them too frequently to begin with. Plus she hasn’t slept in about two weeks, but that’s a story for another time. Can someone just help me lug the bitch upstairs?” Monica grimaced as she knelt beside Torrey, hooking her hands under the sleeping girl’s arms and hoisting her to a sitting position.

Rick made a move to grab Torrey’s legs, but Hershel stopped him. “You’ve had too many transfusions to be trying to help here, Rick. Go sit down; we’ll take care of this.” Hershel gingerly lifted the redhead’s legs, and Maggie stepped forward to support her torso. In this awkward position they slowly ascended the stairs. 

Monica let Hershel lead once they reached the top, so that he could show her the way to the girls’ room. Hershel backed down the hallway to the last door on the left, and paused to open it quickly. Once inside they shuffled over to the bed, and Monica unceremoniously dropped Torrey’s head to the pillows. 

“Perhaps you should be more careful with your friend. Throwing her around like that could injure her.” Hershel gave Monica a stern look, which she proceeded to laugh off.

“A tank could roll over her right now, and she’d be perfectly fine in an hour, trust me. Her body’s not the same as ours. Even in sleep it protects her, and heals itself. She’s special, this one.” Monica’s voice grew gentle, and she lightly stroked Torrey’s hair, a fire burning into itself on the bedding. The others were now staring at her; Monica’s sudden mood shifts threw everyone off.

Monica cleared her throat and crossed her arms over her chest. “As I was saying, she’ll be fine no matter what. She just needs to sleep for several hours.”

~ ~ ~

It was about two days before Torrey woke up for good. She had barely stirred during that time, and Hershel was worried for the redhead’s well-being, but Monica told him not to bother and promptly locked the door on him; Monica was half sloth, and she wanted to sleep, too, but that was hard to do with the doctor coming around every hour to check on the demon. 

When Torrey’s eyes finally blinked open that second day it wasn’t Monica sitting in the chair beside her bed, but rather Rick. The first thing Torrey saw when she woke up was the cerulean oceans of Rick’s eyes staring down at her, and those waters tugged at her heart strings. Her breath hitched in her throat, and for a moment the two stared at each other awkwardly before Torrey found her voice again.

“Is your son alright? Is he in pain?” Torrey’s voice, still thick from sleep, was filled with nothing but concern for the child, and that made Rick smile.

“Carl’s fine. T-Dogg and Glenn, two members of my group, brought back some heavy duty painkillers, so we gave those to him; it seemed rude to wake you up, anyway.” Rick’s eyes shifted down to his hands clasped in front of him. He slowly reached out and took Torrey’s hand in his own, holding it as if it were something fragile and precious. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did for my boy. But I have to ask… what are you that you can perform these miracles?”

Torrey took a moment to choose her words. One wrong statement could ruin her reputation as one of the good guys. “I’m a demon-vampire hybrid. I know how weird that sounds, but perhaps with the dead walking the earth you’ll be able to believe it. That means that I’m half demon and half vampire, and I have the blessings and curses of both.”

Rick nodded, drinking in everything she’d said. “What you did for Carl, how does that work?”

“That comes from the demon side; I’ve been endowed with supernatural powers. I can do pretty much anything I set my mind to, with a few limitations. I had to use up a lot of power to save your son, though. 

“Now sleeping spells are fairly easy to put on someone; even a human could do it if they knew the magic words, so to speak. You don’t have to concentrate on keeping the person asleep after the sleeping spell sets in, either, so it doesn’t take as much power. 

“Numbing his body was a different matter; that took some real energy, because I had to concentrate on keeping just the nerves in his side deadened while Hershel worked. There’s always a risk when doing that, but I’ve got it under control.” She waved her hand here, as if blowing off all the risks of such a power completely.  
“What kind of risks come with the numbing?” Concern flashed in Rick’s eyes, even though his boy had been out of the woods of death for two days.

 

“Well, if I deaden too many nerve endings, the body can shut down, and then I’d have to re-connect those nerves to the brain, in a way. Keeping the numbing effect in one certain area is difficult, because one slip and the numbing will spread throughout the entire body, and that’s nearly unstoppable once it’s started; kind of like dominoes toppling over.”

Rick nodded, his eyes wide with fascination. “What else did you have to do?”

“I had to keep the boy’s blood flow to a minimum while Hershel was cutting into him and all. That’s kind of like trying to keep a burst dam in its place; if you don’t have near perfect control, and energy to spare, you’ll get washed away with the oncoming flood. Plus, it’s hard being around fresh blood when you’re a vampire who hasn’t fed in a while; blood gives me energy, and with my power waning already… well, it was tempting, is all I can say, but I would never take from a child, so it wasn’t a problem in the first place.” A blush colored Torrey’s cheeks, and embarrassment made her look at the bed sheets rather than Rick’s handsome face.

For several minutes they sat in uncomfortable silence, Rick trying to process all of the information Torrey had dumped on him, and Torrey hoping that he wasn’t frightened by her abilities. 

“So you haven’t fed in a while, right?” Rick finally spoke, keeping his eyes pointedly fixed at the wall.

“That’s right.” Torrey replied, her cheeks flushing a brighter pink. 

Rick nodded absentmindedly to himself, and deftly removed the small bandage that had been placed on his arm to keep the transfusion needle marks covered. “Not sure how all this vampire stuff works, but I figure a vein’s what you need to get as much as you can without killin’ me, right?” He leaned forward, holding his arm out to her, an offering of gratitude and acceptance.

Torrey’s eyes widened as she realized what he was proposing she do to him, and she smacked his arm away. “Rick, no, I’m not going to… feed off of you. You gave way too much blood for Carl; I could smell it when I walked into the house. It might be a few days after, but you’re still healing. I can go find a deer in the woods and drink that, or something.” She was babbling, but her words were tumbling from her mouth before she could stop them. She was flattered that he would even think to let her take blood from him, but the way Torrey saw it taking blood from a human, or even another supernatural creature, was a sacred, sensual act to be shared between lovers; animals were easier, because they didn’t push unwanted feelings into your heart.

Rick might’ve pushed the subject had Torrey’s tone not warned against it. He rolled his sleeve back down his arm, fiddling with the cuff a moment too long. “Would you consider joining my group, at least?” He spoke so casually that Torrey almost didn’t realize what he was asking.

“You… you want me to join you?”

“Yes. Seems to me you could be a mighty fine help to us, in case things get rough again, plus you’ve got a kind heart, and we could sure use more tenderness ‘round here.”

Torrey thought over his proposal for several minutes. She’d been searching for a group for her and Monica to fit into for weeks now, but all of the ones they’d encountered had been small and weak, and most of them ended up dying when a horde passed through, not to mention that their company hadn’t been half as good as Rick’s was right now. 

“Monica and I are a package deal, you know. You get me, you get her; simple as that.” She figured she’d hammer out this detail right off the bat, just to be absolutely certain that her best friend would never be separated from her.

“Wouldn’t want it any other way.” Rick smiled wider than seemed possible. “Do we have a deal?”

“We have a deal.” Torrey smiled right back, the happiness radiating through her entire being. 

They shook on it, both of them still grinning like fools.


	5. Problem Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a chapter title that actually kind of fits the chapter itself. I like the title I chose for this one. Woo.

“Would you mind helping us out with another problem?” Rick asked after he and Torrey had shaken hands; he kept her hand in his, as a way to express his gratitude, but there was something more there that Torrey couldn’t quite put her finger on. In any case, the feel of his palm against her own was in no way unpleasant. 

“Name it.” She smiled brightly at him, their eyes meeting once more. God, were his eyes blue.

Rick’s expression grew sad, and his looked away from her, down at their hands. “Little girl’s gone missing. Her name’s Sophia. She’s Carol’s daughter. It’s been… I don’t even know how many days now, but we’re not going to give up searching for her. Any way you could do some kind of demon thing to help us locate her?” He gave Torrey a playful smirk; he believed everything she’d told him, but it still felt silly to say such things. 

“I’ll need to see a picture of her. It’ll be easier to try and track her down if I know what she looks like. I can check the woods, too, or at least some of the areas that your group hasn’t already searched; I need to find something to feed off of anyway.” Torrey blushed, giving Rick a shy smile in return; it felt weird to talk about her vampiric needs with anyone other than Monica.

“I’m sure Carol still has a picture of her. I’ll let her know you’ll be comin’ by to ask her so she can dig it up.”

Torrey nodded, unsure of what to say now. After another moment of awkwardness, Rick rose from the chair and left with a parting nod. 

Once he was gone she threw the covers back, swinging her legs over the edge of the mattress. She was still wearing her black tank top and black skinny jeans; the only things that had been removed were her combat boots and her black leather jacket with detachable sleeves that turned it into a vest when the weather grew warmer. She saw her vest resting on the bedside table, and her boots next to it on the floor. 

She moved to put her vest on, then thought better of it; it would be easier for her to hunt without that thing flapping all over the place, and the same went for her boots; they were just too cumbersome for running through the forest. So she left both in the places she’d found them, and wandered outside to find Monica and Carol. 

Once she passed the house’s threshold she could see an RV parked near the outskirts of the front yard, and a few people standing around or taking care of basic chores. She could see Monica in the midst of the small crowd, munching on a peach and smiling at an older woman with short salt-and-pepper hair. The woman was hanging garments on a clothesline, and Monica was handing her a shirt or a pair of pants in between bites. 

Torrey approached them at a casual pace, not wanting to startle the strangers around her by sprinting over to Monica. Monica noticed her when she was still a few feet away, and waved her over, as if Torrey would have been heading in any other direction than straight for her best friend. 

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. Peach?” Monica produced a ripe peach from her pocket, and offered it to Torrey with a grin.

Torrey accepted gratefully, biting into the juicy fruit like a pig; somehow she still managed to look like a lady while doing it. 

“Torrey, this is Carol. Carol, Torrey.” Monica gestured between them absentmindedly, finishing off her peach at the same time. 

Carol turned to face the redhead, a warm, almost motherly smile lighting her face. “Rick told me you’d be coming by to look at a picture of Sophia. I’d like to thank you ahead of time for your offer to help.” Something akin to despair swam in Carol’s irises, and Torrey could feel the depression rolling off of her in waves; Torrey could understand it, of course, since her daughter had gone missing, after all.

Carol pulled the wrinkled, faded picture from her pocket and handed it over to Torrey. Torrey studied it carefully, taking in every detail she could from it. After a few moments she handed it back, giving Carol a sympathetic smile. “I’ll do what I can to find your little girl. I promise that no matter what happens, I’ll make sure she comes back to you safe and sound.”

Carol couldn’t say anything, her throat was too closed off from the sobs she was holding in, and she merely nodded. Torrey laid her hand over Carol’s, giving it a light squeeze of reassurance, before tugging on Monica’s hand. “I need to go hunting. Come with?”

Monica shrugged and allowed Torrey to drag her away, giving Carol a parting wave over her shoulder. 

When they passed the tree line, Monica spoke up. “What’s the problem? I never come hunting with you; you know I can’t keep up with your damn demon speed.”

Torrey bit her lip and leaned against a tree, looking around to make sure no one else was around. “When I looked at Sophia’s picture I just got this… I don’t know, vision, I guess. You know how I get those sometimes, when I’m searching for someone?”

Monica nodded. “So what did you see?”

“That little girl is dead, Monica. But not just dead and gone to Heaven, she’s a walker. I saw her as one of those things.”

“Are you sure about this?” Monica raised an eyebrow at her friend; it wasn’t that she didn’t trust her senses, it was that she didn’t want to believe that Torrey was right this time.

“You know I can feel when someone’s alive, but there’s no spark from her soul. She’s gone; I’m certain of that.” Torrey shifted her gaze from Monica’s eyes to the forest floor, wiggling her bare toes. 

Monica contemplated the information for a moment. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to bring her back.”

“Can you handle that? You just barely got your energy back, and resurrecting someone could kill you.” Monica’s eyes widened slightly, and she gave Torrey half a glare. She could still remember the last time Torrey had resurrected someone; bitch had gone back to Hell for a month to “recover” and left her on earth to wonder if she would ever be coming back.

“She’s just a child, Monica. And Carol’s devastated. I can’t just not do something when I have the ability to fix this. Worst case scenario, Lucifer drags me back to Hell for a few weeks to get my strength back.” Torrey shrugged; she had already made her decision, and nothing Monica could say would change her mind.

“Worst case scenario, you go back to Hell for a month and I’m stuck up here again, and not only am I more vulnerable, but Rick’s entire group is, too. If I die I can’t come back like you can.” Though she wouldn’t admit it, Monica was scared, and a little bit hurt, too. She’d known Torrey for years, and they were like sisters. Torrey taught Monica how to defend herself, and how to survive. Sure, Monica could probably make it on her own, but who would protect her when another horde passed through? She wasn’t good enough to escape thirty or forty of those things coming right at her. Not only that, she didn’t want to lose Torrey for a month. It was hard not being able to talk to Torrey when she’d been passed out for two days, and those thirty days oh so long ago had been her own kind of Hell. 

Torrey could see the turmoil in her friend’s eyes, and she placed both hands on Monica’s shoulders, squeezing them reassuringly. “I won’t let that happen, you know that. I’ll talk to Michael, alright? He can be a conduit for me, go to Lucifer and strike a deal in my place. I’ll make sure I feed on anything I can, too, okay?” Torrey smiled, her eyes pleading with Monica to see her reason, and drop the subject. 

Monica sighed, then nodded dejectedly. “If you get yourself killed I’ll follow you to the underworld and kick your ass.” She smirked, trying to make light of the situation.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Torrey wrapped her arms around Monica’s small frame before darting into the surrounding woods, disappearing from sight in two seconds. 

Monica shook her head before turning and striding back to Rick’s camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It'll become clear later on who Michael is. For now let's just call him 'Torrey's friend from Hell'. Yes, he is another of my OCs.


	6. It's Been A While

Torrey could feel her vampiric side shouting at her to satiate its thirst, but speaking to Michael was more important than the blood her body craved. A child’s life was at stake, in a manner of speaking, and that seemed to be the most urgent matter at hand. 

Once she was deep in the woods Torrey closed her eyes, sensing for others who might accidentally wander into her area. The closest human was at least a mile away, down by the creek, so she figured she’d have plenty of time to have a quick conversation with Michael before they caught up to her, if they came this way at all. 

Summoning was relatively easy for someone of Torrey’s status, and in this case all she had to do was speak Michael’s name and envision him beside her, and there he was in all his glory. He was taller than her, six foot, at least, with coffee colored hair that waved down to his neck, and a pointed jaw that was strangely attractive. He was a dark angel, which was shown to all through his large, jet black angel wings that jutted from his back. They sat in a resting position now, feathers ruffling in the slight breeze. 

“Torrey, darling, it’s been a while since I saw you last.” Michael’s smile was exuberant, and it lit up his whole face; he looked like a kid in a candy store.   
“So it has, Michael. I trust you’ve been well?” Torrey couldn’t help but grin back at her friend. 

She let him lean in and kiss her cheek before he answered. “Yes, I have. I’ve missed you, though, I have to say. Lucifer’s missed you, too, if I’m being honest.” Michael took Torrey’s hand in his own, rubbing the back of it lightly with his thumb. 

As soon as Michael touched her a flood of memories washed over the redhead, and whether that was his doing or her subconscious’ she couldn’t tell. All those years past, when she had first started out in Hell, and he had been the one right there beside her, training her, protecting her, loving her. 

“Please, don’t.” Torrey whispered, closing her eyes tightly against the onslaught of times past. Instantly the flood subsided, and her mind was left clear once more.   
Torrey looked up at Michael, into those golden-hazel eyes she used to adore, and some hidden part of her wished she’d never had to give him up. 

Once upon a time, they’d been romantically involved. They’d been together for a year before Torrey got promoted to being an Earthen Demon and had to leave him. Michael, being a Dark Angel, had other duties to attend to, and even if they’d wanted to keep up the relationship it never would have lasted. Torrey had moved on, but clearly Michael hadn’t, and every day she regretted having to hurt him. 

They didn’t speak for a long while, just soaking up each other’s presence now that they had the chance to do so. She felt his wings wrap around her, protecting her just as they always had, and had to bite back the urge to cry. 

“I know you wouldn’t have summoned me if you didn’t need help with something. Anything I can do for you I will.” Michael pressed his cheek to the top of her head, his words ghosting through her copper hair. 

Torrey sighed softly, a mixture of sadness and contentment, and began. “A woman from a group I’m now with, Carol, lost her daughter a few days ago. People from the group have been out looking, but there’s still no sign of her. I did a soul search, so to speak, for her, but there’s nothing out there, and I know she’s dead; she’s a walker now, not just a body. I’m going to find her and bring her back, Michael.”

Michael stiffened, knowing full well the meaning of her words. “You’re going to end up killing yourself. Lucifer’s going to drag you back to Hell for a long while after.”

Torrey shook her head, as if shooing away his negative words. “That’s where you come in. There’s no way I can leave Monica, or the rest of that group, behind for any extended amount of time. Even a few days would be pushing it. I need you to talk to Lucifer for me, get him to agree not to make me come back to Hell to gather my strength afterwards. I can replenish while I’m here, and if you’re with me while I’m resurrecting the girl it won’t take so much of my energy.” 

The redhead looked up at her dark angel now, locking their eyes as she cupped his face in both of her hands. “Please, Michael. That woman doesn’t deserve to lose her daughter that way. I want to bring these people hope in whatever ways I can.”

Michael closed his eyes against her gaze, making a huffing noise through his nose. “Why can’t you just come back with me? You wouldn’t have to face this apocalyptic nightmare. Monica could come, too. I’m sure Lucifer would agree to make her a demon so that you two wouldn’t get separated. You don’t need to fight for those people, Torrey, not when you’re so superior to them.” His words sounded harsh, but they were true. Torrey was superior in the sense that she had powers that no one else did, and that she could survive longer than anybody else could. 

When Torrey didn’t speak, Michael closed the gap between them, pressing his lips gently to hers. She didn’t resist, but rather kissed him back; it was really just for old times’ sake, though, because she’d seen something in Rick’s eyes that she couldn’t refuse, and there was no way she was going to leave without letting that come to fruition first. 

Torrey broke away after a few seconds. “I have an obligation here, Michael. My job isn’t done yet. We both knew what that meant when Lucifer told me I was to become an Earthen Demon. I chose to take the job, and now I have to fulfill my purpose. Will you help me or not?”

Michael sighed, making that huffing noise again. “Fine, I’ll help you.”

“Thank you.” Torrey smiled brightly then, cupping his face and kissing him once more, just to let him know how grateful she was. 

The two exchanged a few more pleasantries before embracing one last time, and then Michael was gone, back to his Dark Angel duties, and Torrey ran off to find a blood source.


	7. Careless Whisper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought the chapter title would fit better than it does. But whatever, I'm proud of this chapter, especially how long it came out.   
> Enjoy.

When Torrey got back from her hunt it was nearly dusk, and the sky was lit up in hues of pink and orange. It was actually quite beautiful the way that light filtered over the farmlands, and Torrey couldn’t help but stop and admire it for a few minutes before heading back to the camp grounds.

Monica and Rick were sitting on the porch steps when the redhead circled around, and Torrey was a little bit surprised to see the two smiling tentatively at each other as they made light conversation. 

Rick jumped up first, moving to Torrey’s side in an instant. “Any sign of her?” He asked, the hope flashing in his gaze. 

“Um… no, nothing yet.” Torrey felt a twinge of regret at the way that hope left his eyes with a single blink, but she couldn’t worry about that now. 

Monica elbowed Rick gently out of the way, raising her eyebrow at him, before wrapping the redhead in a light hug. “Glad you’re back safe. Were you able to talk to Michael?”

“Who’s Michael?” Rick looked between the two girls as Monica stepped to Torrey’s right side, her natural place with the demon. 

Torrey’s cheeks flushed a soft pink color, and she glared down at her friend, who merely grinned at her. She turned back to Rick, meeting his cerulean eyes. “Michael’s just a friend from the past. I’ll tell you all about him later… in private.” Her eyes lit on Maggie coming out the front door, and Rick instantly backed away, giving a slight nod to Maggie as he went off toward the RV. 

“Supper’s ready, if y’all want to join us.” Maggie called to Torrey and Monica from the front railing.

Torrey gave her a warm smile. “We’d be honored to. We’ll be at the table in a few minutes.”

Maggie nodded before plodding off to tell the others, leaving the two friends in silence. 

“What’d he say?” Monica asked in a hushed tone, getting right to the point. 

“He said he’d help me. He’s going to talk to Lucifer about letting me stay here after resurrecting Sophia, and he’ll be there during the event, so I’ll be able to absorb his energy and put it into the girl.” Torrey shrugged as if she’d known this would happen the whole time, and patted Monica’s shoulder. “I told you I wouldn’t leave you this time, and I meant it.”

Monica smiled, but it didn’t quite touch her eyes. “I trust you, Torrey. I just worry that you’re expanding yourself too much. I think you should take a day or two to have some practice sessions with your powers. Most of them have been dormant for a while now, and if you don’t get them up and running again, and under control, you’re going to be exhausted when it really matters. And then someone’s going to get hurt, and that person might end up being you.”

Torrey sighed, contemplating the suggestion. Her friend was right, of course she was, but a day to just to get her supernatural side into full awareness was something she wasn’t sure she could afford. “I can’t exactly practice in Hershel’s house, you know. That would be rude.”

Monica snorted a laugh and shook her head. “So practice by the forest tree line, or in the wide acres of grassland, or even by Ricks’ group’s camp. I’m sure they’d be delighted with the show.”

“Alright, fine, but only if I have you there to make sure I don’t get out of control. Deal?”

“Deal.”

The two girls shook hands in a jokingly businesslike manner before heading into the house for dinner.

~ ~ ~

Torrey decided to help clear the dishes after dinner, just to prove that she was useful in a normal manner. As she set a stack of plates carefully into the sink, Carol came up beside her and tapped her on the arm.

Torrey smiled at the older woman. “Hey, Carol. I don’t have anything to report on Sophia yet, but –"

Carol cut her off with a soft squeeze on the shoulder. “That’s not what I came to talk to you about. I wanted to ask you for another favor, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Name it.”

“Well, remember how I told you Daryl went out looking for Sophia today, too? He had a bit of an accident earlier, and I was wondering if you could heal him? I know you helped Carl a few days ago…” Her voice trailed off, a sheepish smile creeping over her face. 

Torrey patted Carol’s hand. “Of course I’ll help. Which room is he in?”

Carol led the redhead to where Daryl was holed up in one of the spare bedrooms, bringing a tray of food with her. She knocked lightly on the already open door, just to let him know she was there, before entering. 

“Brought you some food. Thought you might be hungry after all you went through today.” Carol smiled softly as she set the tray down on the bedside table. 

Daryl turned just enough to look at her, never rolling off of his right side. His brows furrowed when he saw Torrey standing next to Carol. “Who’s that?”

“This is Torrey. She can help you… heal faster.” The older woman was at a loss for words, unsure as what to say about the redhead stranger who shadowed her. 

Torrey walked around the bed so that Daryl could see her fully, and pulled the one chair in the room over to mattress. She took account of the injuries that she could see, figuring out what she would need to do to help. There was bandage wrapped around his forehead in one long, thick strip, and she guessed that there was some kind of wound on his left side, since he was favoring the right. 

“Can you tell me what happened, so that I know better what to do to heal you?” 

“Got Hershel to patch me up. Don’t need no one else pokin’ and proddin’ at me tryin’a fix me up.” Daryl grumbled, rolling his eyes at Torrey. 

“Hershel can’t do the things I can do. Please, just tell me what happened.” Torrey was trying to remain patient, but Daryl’s rough attitude grated on her nerves. 

Daryl huffed, but finally told his story. “Took one a the horses out to look for Sophia, but it got spooked an’ bucked me off. Fell down a damn steep hill and got an arrow pierced through my side. Tried climbin’ back up the hill, but I fell an’ hit my head pretty hard. Finally did manage to get back up, and make it inta camp, but Andrea musta thought I was a walker, ‘cause she shot me. Bullet only grazed my head, but it don’t hurt no less.” He wasn’t used to speaking so much in such a short amount of time, and his eyes gradually broke contact with the redhead’s during his tale. 

Torrey nodded, figuring out what she needed to do. She leaned forward to remove the gauze from his head, but Daryl flinched back, swatting her hands away. 

“Dammit, woman, I got stitches.” Daryl growled. 

“I need to remove the bandage to heal the wound, Daryl. I’m not going to hurt you.” Torrey reached out again, and this time he allowed her to unravel the gauze from his forehead. 

She let her fingertips hover over the one bullet hole visible to her, sensing for how deep the injury went in his skull. Luckily it was just a surface wound, with no internal bleeding or cracks to the bone. She numbed the nerve endings around the stitches before gently pulling them out and setting them aside. When the wound started to bleed, she leaned over Daryl, holding him down so he wouldn’t freak out too much, and deftly swiped her tongue over the bullet hole; not only did the slight amount of blood give her an energy boost, but her venom sealed the wound for good, and fused the skin back together. 

Daryl reached up in a mixture of shock and amazement as soon as Torrey moved back, running his fingers over the scar. “How’d you do that?”

“I have my ways.” Was all Torrey bothered to say; she had no inclination to delve into the details of her supernatural abilities at that moment. “Now let’s have a look at that side.”

Daryl bit his lip and pulled the blanket further up on his chest. “Carol, you mind steppin’ out fer a minute?”

Carol threw a surprised glance at Torrey, but the redhead just tipped her chin once with a reassuring smile, and so the older woman had no choice but to leave the room. 

“Self-conscious, eh?” Torrey teased, trying to make Daryl show some other form of emotion that differed from angry.

Daryl merely snorted and pushed the blanket down to reveal his injured side. 

The procedure to heal his stab wound was much the same as the one to patch up his bullet hole, except it was a lot more uncomfortable having Torrey licking his ribcage and hip than his temple had been; he wasn’t about to complain, though, since he wasn’t feeling any pain whatsoever, and he wouldn’t be stuck sitting around and doing nothing for the next however many days like Hershel had wanted him to do. 

When she was finished, Torrey tapped his forehead with her fingers, placing a slow-acting, yet long-lasting, sleeping spell on Daryl; she could tell he needed the rest. He mumbled his thanks as she slipped out the door. Carol was waiting right next to the door frame, leaning up against the wall with an anxious expression on her face; her features smoothed into one of relief as soon as she saw the redhead. 

“You can go on in now, if you want. I’d make your visit quick, though; I put a sleeping spell on him to make sure he got some rest, and it’ll probably be taking effect in the next twenty or thirty minutes.” Torrey rested her palm on Carol’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, before ghosting down the hall and up the stairs to be with Monica. 

~ ~ ~

When Torrey got to her guest room Monica and Rick were both already there, Monica sprawled out on the bed and Rick sitting rigidly in the armchair, his fist under his cheek. He stood when she entered, always the gentleman. 

“Is now later enough to talk?” Rick asked with a smirk, the stupid joke making his blue eyes gleam. 

Torrey nodded and turned to Monica. “Can you step out for a bit? You already know this story.” 

Monica huffed and rolled her eyes, but reluctantly got off the bed and sauntered out of the room. 

Once the door was closed behind her, Rick pounced with his questions. “So who’s Michael? And what did you find out about Sophia?” 

Torrey ushered him back to the chair while she perched on the edge of the bed, facing him, before answering his questions. “Michael is my ex-boyfriend from when I was in Hell.” She pretended she didn’t notice the way Rick’s jaw tightened when she said that. “He’s a dark angel, which is a lot more powerful than what I am. I needed his help with Sophia.”

“What do you need his help for?”

“It’s a little complicated, so just let me explain before you start asking questions. When I search for someone who’s missing, I do a form of ‘soul search’, which is a little bit like a heat motion detector. Once I can see the flame of their soul, I can pinpoint their location. However, with Sophia there was no flicker.” Torrey’s eyes dropped to the floor, no longer able to hold Rick’s as she confessed this. 

Rick had been patient through her explanation, but now he was silent with confusion, or perhaps shock. “What does that mean?”

“It means she’s dead, Rick. But what’s worse is that I had a vision of her as a walker. Now I can’t see the future, and when I say vision I mean a flash of the present moment, which means that she’s an animated corpse somewhere right now.”

“Unless she got… put down.”

“I’ve been keeping tabs on her, and if she had gotten shot or stabbed or whatever I would have seen it. Actually, it looks like she’s,” Torrey paused her, closing her eyes to better see the vision that flooded her head. “She’s confined somewhere, as if someone’s keeping her body captive or something. I can’t tell exactly where, but at least she’s safe.”

“Is any of this good news?” Rick’s voice was strained, an almost-whisper.

“Well nothing of this sort is technically good news, but I can turn it into that. I can resurrect her.” Torrey smiled brightly now, as if she were an angel sent from Heaven just to ease Rick’s burden.

“You can do what?”

“I can resurrect her. Once I get a hold of her I can call her soul back from Heaven and bring her back to her body, giving her new life. It’ll take a lot of my energy, could even kill me, so to speak, but that’s what I needed Michael for. If he’s there during the process I can absorb his energy and push it into the girl, so that she’ll come back to life, and I won’t have to go back to Hell to recover my strength. He’s making a deal with Lucifer about that right now, actually.”

Rick sat motionless and silent on his chair, his eyes wide with all of the words she’d pushed into his head. None of it made much sense to him; people weren’t supposed to come back from the dead, but they had, and now Torrey was saying there was a way to cure them, in a sense, and make them human again. 

“Rick? Are you alright?” Torrey slowly reached out to shake his shoulder, but he caught her hand, his eyes finally meeting hers.

“You can bring people back from the dead, back to their human lives?” He asked, his words slow and deliberate.

“Yes, but only in special circumstances, like with Sophia. If I suddenly started trying to bring back the whole human race I’d be struck down by God; I can’t interfere with His will, and something as large as this global disease could only go on if He wanted it to. Not to mention that after two or three resurrections I’d collapse without even enough energy to breathe, and I’d be dragged back to the underworld so that Lucifer could heal me.” Torrey’s voice grew quiet now, her heart breaking as the hope in Rick’s eyes was crushed. “I’m sorry, Rick. There’s only so much I can do.”

Rick merely nodded, still clasping Torrey’s hand tight as a vice in his own. “I understand. At least Sophia will get her life back, and then Carol won’t be so devastated. Not to mention it’ll give the group so much more hope for this world.” And suddenly he smiled, full of that flagging hope once more, and Torrey had the sudden inexplicable urge to kiss him; she wouldn’t, though, because she wasn’t a homewrecker.

Rick stood then and wrapped his arms tightly around the redhead, taking her by surprise. “Thank you. You’ve given us all so much more to look forward to in this nightmare.”

Torrey hugged him back, trying not to notice how nice he smelled under the sweat and grime of a long day, and patted him between the shoulder blades. “You’re welcome. I promise to keep you all safe, as much as I’m able, for as long as I can.”

And then Rick surprised her even more by placing a gentle kiss right on her blushing cheek. She sat there stunned, even as he left and Monica returned.


	8. Death Is An Old Friend Of Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter differs a little from the actual Walking Dead episode (besides the obvious, of course), so don't freak out about the details that are off.   
> The title for this chapter is a lyric from the song Old Friend by Disturbed. The song itself doesn't have anything to do with the chapter, unless applied to Torrey herself, but that lyric seemed appropriate for the chapter.  
> The chapter is also longer than I expected, which is good for me.  
> Enjoy.

“Are you ready?” Monica laid a hand on Torrey’s forearm. 

Torrey nodded. “I’m ready.”

“Alright, crank up the heat. This’ll just be a warm up for you.” Monica smirked at her stupid pun before continuing. “We’ll start on the harder stuff after a little while.”

The two girls were sitting cross-legged in the grass near Rick’s group, facing each other, so that Torrey could practice with her powers. T-Dog, Dale, Carol, Lori, and Carl were in the camp area, watching with slightly suppressed fascination; after all, they had never seen anything like this before. 

At the moment, Torrey was going to perform the simple task of heating her skin, a power that came in handy on warm nights, and in the presence of walkers. It was a relatively simple trick, since her demon blood was always boiling below the surface. She gave her friend a smirk as she willed her blood to warm to a higher temperature. She could feel it simmer through her veins, rising to a slow bubbling, and finally a rolling boil.

Monica merely grimaced at first, the excess heat from Torrey’s skin making her uncomfortable due to the already warm temperature outside, but soon she had to retract her hand from Torrey’s arm completely, lest her fingers get burnt. 

“Looks like you’ve got that covered. How about we move on.” The scowl on Monica’s face made Torrey giggle, but she nodded, and let her blood return to normal.

They continued in much the same fashion, Torrey testing her abilities, and Monica being a sort of guinea pig to make sure the redhead’s powers worked the way they were supposed to. T-Dog, Dale, and Lori wandered off after a while, attending to other matters, but Carol stayed near the camp, as did Carl. Torrey couldn’t tell if Carol merely stayed around to watch Carl because she didn’t have much else to do, or if she actually wanted to watch Torrey’s show, but the demon did catch the older woman watching every so often. 

Carl seemed particularly fascinated with the way Torrey could make flames appear on her fingertips, as if they were candles, and then flick them into the air like a lighter’s flame receding into its hole once more. His face lit up with his smile, and his blue eyes danced with the magic the redhead managed to unfold, and she couldn’t help but give him an encore whenever he persisted that she “do that trick again.”

Torrey was truly pleased that she had been accepted by the group’s surviving child member, and his smiles were often followed by Carol’s as she watched over him while attending to the camp chores. 

After a while, for some reason or another, Carol and Carl had both been called away to other duties, and Torrey and Monica were alone in the grass to practice by themselves. They couldn’t have been alone for more than twenty minutes before the sound of gunshots sent Torrey jumping to her feet. 

“Walkers?” Monica asked calmly, looking to Torrey for answers. 

Torrey’s eyes widened as a new vision slapped her in the face. She could see Rick’s group and Hershel’s family huddled in a tense group, watching Shane rant and rave, a loaded gun pointed at a walker on a leash held by Hershel. Rick was holding one, too, and he was pleading with Shane to calm down and listen to his explanation. 

More gunshots broke the vision from Torrey’s mind, and she staggered as she came back to reality. Monica raised an eyebrow, still waiting for an answer. 

“Yes, walkers, but there’s a much bigger problem in need of resolving. They’re at the barn. Let’s go.” Torrey nodded to her friend before they both took off running toward the barn.

When they passed the house they could see everyone in the distance. The sound of gunfire was like a thunder storm gushing down around them, and Torrey could make out about four people standing in a line in front of the barn doors, taking down all the walkers that spilled out. 

Torrey didn’t bother to wonder why there were walkers in the barn, she just knew she needed to get down there as quick as she could; she knew where Sophia was now, and when that girl stumbled through the doors Shane was sure to shoot her down before Torrey could fulfill her promise. 

The gunfire had stopped now, and Shane was speaking to the group; the two girls were still too far away to make out the words. Suddenly Shane turned with a start back toward the barn doors, his gun poised to shoot. Sophia came into view, her corpse’s feet shuffling out into the sunlight, making low growling noises. There was a collective gasp between the two groups, and Rick’s head fell slightly. Carol ran forward without thinking, and Daryl grabbed her before she could get to the walker-Sophia, pulling her to the ground and anchoring her there. 

Rick’s head swiveled around, searching for Torrey. He saw her just as Shane raised his gun once more and cocked the hammer back. There was a harried cry to wait just a moment more, Shane, but he made no move to lower the weapon again, and Torrey could feel his anticipation as he placed his finger over the trigger.  
Finally the girls were there on the outskirts of the group, but even at the rate they were going Torrey would make it to Sophia just seconds too late. She would have to teleport in front of Sophia, protect her from Shane’s bullet, and now seemed as good a time as any to reawaken that power. 

One minute the redhead was solid, the next she was nothing but air, and then she was solid once more, right in front of Sophia. Depending on your view, she was either a second too late or just in time, for when she burst in front of Sophia the bullet that had been meant for the walker-girl’s head hit Torrey in the stomach instead. 

Another collective gasp as Torrey slumped to her knees, one arm wrapping around her torso to keep the blood in. She wasn’t worried about her safety; all she could think was that this injury was wasting her energy, and that could affect her ability to save Sophia. 

Rick started forward to help the redhead, but she held up one bloodied hand to stop him; she could handle this herself. She placed her hand directly over the bullet hole and managed to pull the bullet from her body, stop the bleeding, and close the wound. Torrey was thankful that her powers made such a procedure easy, but wished she could have numbed herself first to ease the pain; that would have taken up too much energy, however, and she would rather suffer a little and bring a child back to life. 

Walker-Sophia, having no more human feelings or thoughts left, smelled Torrey’s blood and lurched forward, sinking her teeth in the demon’s shoulder. Torrey didn’t cry out in pain, merely grimaced and pushed the girl away gently. 

Shane’s annoyed huff could be heard by all, and he raised the gun once more, ready to put Sophia out of her misery once and for all, and take Torrey down with her; the redhead had been bitten, and it was only a matter of time before they’d have to put a bullet in her head anyway. 

Before he could pull the trigger, the long, curved blade of a girkahs was pressed against his throat, Monica standing at the end of it, her eyes hard as stone.

“Pull the trigger and I take your head off, you got it?” Monica hissed through clenched teeth. As much as her and Torrey teased each other and acted like they could easily do away with the other it was all just in light fun, and Monica would kill whoever threatened her friend’s mission without hesitation; this guy had already shot Torrey, and that was excuse enough to slit the fucker’s throat, but Monica refrained only because she knew Torrey wasn’t seriously hurt. 

Shane glared at Monica from the corner of his eye, but dropped the gun anyway; Monica, however, did not lower the sword from his throat. Shane was uncomfortable with that situation, but Monica didn’t care; she kept the knife there as a warning to him, and until Torrey had done her job that warning would be in effect. 

Meanwhile, Torrey’s blood was raging under the bitten skin on her shoulder, boiling the infection away until it was gone, and the wound sealed over with a protective piece of scar tissue; the redhead would not become a walker that day. She turned to walker-Sophia and placed a hand on the girl’s throat, paralyzing the body so that she could do what she came here for. 

“Michael,” the redhead called under her breath, and there he was. Torrey could hear the confused and shocked murmurs from those behind her, but she ignored them for the time being. She looked up at the dark angel, gracing him with a smile, before reaching up and taking his hand. She had to stifle a laugh at the jealousy she felt rolling off of Rick in waves when Michael twined their fingers together. 

Michael nodded to the demon, and Torrey closed her eyes. She pushed her soul out of herself, the only thing left back on earth being her body, still clasping Michael’s hand and Sophia’s throat. Luckily it would only take a moment to get Sophia from Heaven, so she wouldn’t have to leave her body too long. 

As she made her journey to Heaven the world fell away from her, turning to darkness before she could see the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. She was greeted by the pearly gates of God’s Kingdom, and Christ stood with Sophia just outside of them. Torrey fell on her knees, bowing in reverence to the Lord, and the demon side of her raged in His presence. 

Once upon a time, Torrey had been a good Christian, but through a lurid turn of events she fell from grace and became a demon instead. She couldn’t say she didn’t want the powers and perks that came with being a demon, but she hated not being in God’s graces anymore, and the sickness inside of her when her demon side rejected the Lord was something she could do without for all of eternity.

“Thank you, Lord, for allowing me to do this.” Torrey spoke softly, her voice filled with respect and love for Christ, though the blood in her veins boiled in a way that pained her. 

When she looked up Christ nodded once, gracing her with a smile that quelled the burning inside of her. He patted Sophia’s shoulder, and the girl stepped forward. She turned back to wave goodbye to the Lord before taking Torrey’s hand, and the two descended back to earth. 

Torrey’s soul returned to her body and she gasped, breathing in deeply. All that was left now was to reverse the effects of the disease before pulling Sophia back into her own body. Michael’s large black wings wrapped around Torrey as she leaned over the girl, giving her all the strength she no longer had, and helped her turn back the clock, so to speak. Torrey could feel the death seeping out of the girl’s body, falling away into the ground, and then it was gone; there was all the space in the world left for Sophia to move into. 

Somewhere inside of her, Torrey could feel Sophia’s hand slip from her own as the girl re-entered her body, and then there was a gasp beneath her, and the child’s bright blue eyes were staring up into her own. 

Michael’s wings receded, and he released Torrey’s hand. “I’ll give your regards to Lucifer.” Then he was gone, and it was just Torrey and Sophia on the ground by the barn. 

“Welcome back, sweetheart.” Torrey smiled warmly at the girl, and gently pulled her into a sitting position. 

Sophia didn’t speak, but instead threw her arms around Torrey’s shoulders, hugging her tight. “Thank you.” She whispered, the tears rolling down her cheeks.  
Torrey hugged the girl back, patting her shoulder. “You’re welcome, Sophia. Now go see your mother.”

Sophia pulled back and nodded, then got to her feet. Torrey turned to watch the scene unfold and was met with several wide pairs of shocked eyes. Those eyes flickered toward Sophia, who slowly walked toward Carol. Daryl released the older woman and sat back on his heels, his expression not betraying the surprise he felt inside. Carol choked back a sob and hurried to embrace her daughter. 

Monica sheathed her girkahs once more and walked calmly over to Torrey, kneeling beside her friend. “You did good, kid.” She grinned down at the redhead, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

“I know. But now I’m going to pass out.” Torrey laughed lightly to herself, her head feeling fuzzy for the second time in a week. 

Monica rolled her eyes, a grimace pulling her mouth down at the corners, which made Torrey laugh even harder. 

Before the blackness swallowed her, Torrey saw Rick’s piercing blue eyes staring at her, a smile filled with nothing but gratitude on his face, his expression full of hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Update: Because I have currently started work on my first novel and already have quite a few people supporting me, someone suggested I set up a newsletter about the book.   
> It'd be mostly updates about the writing process, quotes from the book, and in the future updates about publication and when it'll be available for purchase.  
> The newsletter will be a mass email sent out roughly once a week. So if you're interested in being a part of this you can send me an email at chayne43571@gmail.com, where the newsletter will be sent from, or you can message me here or at my tumblr (insanechayne.tumblr.com) with the email address you'd like me to send the letter to.   
> Thank you for your support!


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